"Dirty Job"

Written By: ExecutiveShrimp

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, it belongs to Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. Written for pleasure not profit.

Rating: NC 17

Warnings: Violence, angst, Lemons, Limes

Pairings: 1x2x1

Summary: Duo is a masterful pickpocket and skilled but small-time con artist who always chooses to play it safe. When his best friend owes the wrong people a lot of money, Duo get pulled into a high-stakes plot to rob thirty-something billionaire Heero Yuy. The only way to succeed and save his friend is to push his own boundaries and get way too involved.



"Dirty Job"

Chapter Fourteen

Duo and Neil sat in the front seat of the rented sedan. Angelica and J.J. sat in the backseat; she finished pinning the camera to his shirt, and fitted him with a microphone and ear piece. J.J. wasn't very excited about the whole ordeal - he was barely awake.

The American in the front flinched when he was suddenly handed a pocket-sized monitor from the backseat.

"Here you go," said Angelica. "How do I look?"

Duo glanced down at the monitor and watched footage of the twenty-something woman in the backseat, directly behind him, captured by the camera fastened to the collar of J.J.'s vest. The image wasn't very sharp, but he could see her and the interior of the car clearly, albeit in a muted color palette.

"That's so cool," said J.J., starting to become a little more energized. He waved his hand in front of his chest and Duo could see the blur on the screen as it obstructed the view.

"It works," Duo concluded.

Angelica scoffed. "Of course it works. That's not what I asked."

He turned in his seat and smirked at her. "You look good."

She smiled back at him and offered him a playful wink. "Thanks, Papi."

"Uhm," J.J. rudely prodded her in her side. "You know he's a queer, right?"

She rolled her eyes at him and then handed Duo an earpiece and a receiver, so he could listen in on J.J.'s mic and tell him what to do. "Okay, I think we're ready. Neil, your watch?"

Neil mumbled something in Russian under his breath and unfastened the expensive piece of jewelry around his wrist. He handed it to the black-haired man seated behind him. "You better not lose that," he warned.

"Remember the routine, J.J.," Duo reminded him, "and don't overexert yourself on the equipment."

The youngster glared at him. "I can do this."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. I'll just be here on standby, okay?"

"You're gonna have to trust me," his little brother insisted as he popped the door open and stepped out.

"I do trust you," Duo lied. "Good luck."

J.J. slammed the door shut and crossed the street to the gym where Harold worked out every morning.

Just as Neil had observed during a week of trailing the personal assistant, Harold arrived at exactly the same time and J.J. had his first interaction with him, politely holding the door open for him.

"Good morning," Duo heard J.J. say in his left ear. He couldn't hear Harold say anything, but he saw him nod in response. They both headed inside.

"Trust him?" Neil questioned. "You've got to be kidding."

"We have no choice," Duo shot back.

"What?"

Oh shit. "Nothing, J.J., I wasn't talking to you."

"So you're talking behind my back?" He hissed; his temper was short.

"J.J., shut up and just pay attention," Duo warned him, watching as he made his way down the hall to the locker room, right on Harold's heels.

"I'm gonna prove to you once and for all that I'm good enough," he grunted.

Duo could see J.J. reach his hand up, past the camera. "J.J.? J.J.!" Suddenly the monitor went black and Duo's face drained of all color.

"What happened, is the reception bad?" Angelica fussed.

Shit! Shit! Shit! "J.J.?"

"What's going on?" The Russian demanded.

Oh no... "I don't know but... I can't see anything, I can't hear anything and I don't think he can hear me either."

"Goddammit, Maxwell!" Neil slammed his fists onto the steering wheel. "If that little fuck runs his mouth we could be in serious trouble!"

Duo pointed an angry finger at the would-be General. "Don't you dare blame this on me. You are the one who greenlit this fucking stupid idea!"

Angelica sat back, pretending not to be there.

"J.J. is a loose cannon, always has been," Duo continued accusingly, "and you're the one who poured gunpowder into it."

"I thought you could control him! I thought you had a handle on him." Neil reached out and grabbed a fistful of Duo's leather jacket.

Duo pushed him away. "You're the boss, that's your job."

"Guys! Guys! Tranquilizate!" Angelica put one hand on their shoulder and quieted them down. "Let's not make a scene out here, okay?"

"We need to get him out of there," Neil huffed.

"Then go get him," Duo shot back. "I can't go in there; Harold will see me."

"I'm not going to go into some gay gym. What about Angelica?"

The woman shook her head. "I have a long history of trying and failing to tell a fuck-up druggie what to do and what not to do. I'm not going in there to fetch your boy." She sat back with her arms crossed in front of her chest; Duo could tell there was a history there.

"Then I guess we really can't do anything other than trust him," the conman snapped.

The three of them waited in the car anxiously. The silence between them was tense. Neil was wringing the steering wheel; Duo could tell the Russian man regretted ever getting involved with the two of them, but he must know damn well that his mission would have been impossible to pull off without Duo's help, as much as he hated to admit that. He didn't like that Duo - as the key part in the plot - essentially had most of the power. Duo was acutely aware that if that were not the case, Neil would have been a more direct threat to them than Tsubarov.

Precisely an hour later, Harold emerged from the gym with his bag thrown over his shoulder. He strutted away to the underground metro station down the street; J.J. was nowhere to be seen.

The three of them stared at the door and sighed in unison when J.J. finally appeared and walked back to the car. As soon as he sat down in the back seat, Duo reached back and started hitting him with an open hand. "You little bastard!" He screamed. "What the fuck was all that about? That was the worst time ever to get proud, you imbecile!"

"Relax! Relax!" He swatted away his big brother's hands and scooted further towards the door to get out of his reach. "I did it."

"What?"

"I had a really good chat with Harold."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Neil snapped.

"Well, we were in the locker room and Harold was asking around for some guy-"

"What guy?" Duo interrupted.

"Some guy named Oakley."

"Oakley?" Neil adjusted the rearview mirror to look at J.J.

Duo quirked an eyebrow. "One of your friends?"

"Not quite; he'd wish though. He's a low level drug dealer."

J.J. nodded. "That's what I figured. You see, I may not be a mind-reader, like my big brother," he jabbed, "but I know what a guy looking for a fix looks like. Anyway, this big, burly dude tells him this Oakley fellow got busted and Harold was pretty miffed about that. So I just walk up to him and asked what he was shopping for."

"Just like that?"

"Hmhm. Anyway, he's a boring fellow. He was looking for a refill of MDMA; says he needs it to keep his energy-level up. All work, no play."

Duo let out a sudden laugh. This is golden! "Holy shit."

"So, I tell him I can get him the best MDMA in town, but that I charge a little more than Mister Oakley, and he's like: 'That's cool, I can totally pay more. Name your price, just hook me up'," J.J. rambled on excitedly, pleased to have everyone staring at him with lax jaws and wide eyes. "And I sorta insult his ego by doubting if he can foot the bill; he hated that so he totally shot his wad, man." He chuckled hysterically.

"What did he say? What did he say exactly?" Duo pressed.

"That he just got a bonus of ten grand. And I'm like: 'Get your Christmas bonus early?' and he's like: 'No, my boss gives me bonuses regularly, he just doesn't know it'."

"Mother fucker," Angelica muttered.

Duo clapped his hands. "J.J. I could fucking kiss you right now!"

His little brother grinned sloppily, pleased to be on the receiving end of his approval for once, his earlier gripe all but forgotten.

"Wait," Angelica inserted herself, "Don't we need proof?"

"Proof? He literally admitted to me that he stole from his boss!" J.J. argued petulantly, not willing to let her dull the shine of his victory.

The dark-haired beauty shook her head. "I mean proof to bring to Yuy, to convince him that Harold is no good."

"I don't think I need any proof to convince him. We just needed to know to truth so I wouldn't shoot myself in the foot by making wrong accusations." The conman explained. "If I give him a heads-up, and Yuy trusts me enough to at least consider the possibility - which I think he does - he will unearth the evidence for himself." Duo could hardly believe their luck. Addressing J.J., he inquired: "Did he say anything else?"

"Uh, yeah, something like: 'My boss gets himself a painting and I get a little pocket-change, seems only fair'."

"Clever guy," Duo mused, as the puzzle pieces fell together perfectly. "Yuy told him to pay the gallery ten thousand dollars extra on top of the three-hundred price tag for the painting - for Borges' loyalty to him - but Harold obviously never told Borges about the additional 'loyalty-fee'. So Yuy gives him three-ten to go get his painting, when Borges is only expecting to be paid the agreed-upon price of three-hundred thousand... Yuy gets his painting, Borges gets his money, and neither know that ten stacks went missing during the exchange."

"That was just one time though," Neil pointed out.

"Doesn't matter; we've figured out his MO. I'm sure that when Heero starts to delve into this, he is going to find more instances of disappearing money."

"'Heero'?" Angelica wondered, picking up on the fact that Duo called him by his first name for the first time in their presence, even though he hadn't mean to. Duo ignored her and was glad no one else caught the little slip-up, or responded to her pointing it out.

"So I did good, right?" J.J. asked with a smirk.

"You got lucky," the Russian replied. He started the car and pulled it out of the parking place.

Duo shook his head. Yes, he did get lucky, but he deserved some praise. "No, J.J. You did good. Seriously."

His smile was beaming. "Thanks, bro." He sat back and looked out the window, bathing in his moment of glory.

"So how are you going to break it to Yuy? This weekend?" Neil probed.

"Probably not," Duo answered vaguely; he didn't volunteer to share any more information on his strategy.

"Hn." Neil was silent for a while but Duo could tell he wasn't about to let the issue go. "It's not like we have forever. We only have about a month and a half left, at most, until he makes his cash withdrawal."

"This charity event is a big deal, I need to make the most of it," he explained, knowing there was a benefit to staying calm and not losing his patience with Neil's meddling. "I'm not going to draw away focus from this opportunity. Exposing Harold can wait. It needs to happen at the right time."

Neil accepted his answer, although it was obvious he wasn't pleased with Duo's approach. First he dropped off J.J. at his apartment and then he dropped off Angelica. As she got out of the car, she commented: "I should tag along more often, this was exciting."

"Get back to your KDF, Angelica," Neil ordered. "Keep practicing." She made a pouty face that caused Duo to chuckle, then shut the door and waved them off.

The two men were silent as the car moved slowly through traffic and navigated the narrow streets of the inner city. Duo adjusted in his seat when Neil was supposed to take a left - if he was going to drop him off at his place like he should - but he didn't. They went straight ahead and at the next crossroads, he took a right. Duo's palms started to sweat; he inconspicuously wiped his hands on his jeans.

"So, he summoned me, huh?" One corners of Neil's mouth curled up in a crooked smile; before the man could call him a 'mind-reader' again, Duo supplied: "It doesn't take a genius to know you aren't taking me home."

"But a fool wouldn't figure out where I am taking you."

"Maybe, but we're headed into his part of town."

"Every part of town is his part of town."

Duo nodded at that inconvenient truth, but there was one exception: Heero's part of town. The Tower and the estate. It was the farthest he could get away from Tsubarov without skipping town and he realized that made him yearn to go back to the billionaire. "Cops released the mansion?"

"Sure did. It was always just a matter of time."

Last time the conman had a face-to-face with the lord of the Russian mafia, they met in a run-down warehouse at the edge of the city; Tsubarov's regular abode was a nineteenth century mansion not far from Corbeau Park. Before Duo had gotten involved in the current mission, the mansion was the biggest house he had ever laid eyes on. A two-story, boxy structure of faded terracotta walls and tall windows overlooking an overgrown, wild yard. Twin balconies on either side with vines entwining with the cast iron railing. The front windows were boarded shut. Old trees hunched over the building, which was packed in-between newer apartment buildings. It was an odd piece of history that Tsubarov had claimed - the way he claimed everything.

Neil stopped the car halfway up the short driveway. A stocky man waiting by the door left his post to approach them.

"You're not coming in with me?" Duo asked, his tone pleading.

Neil was as apologetic as he was ever going to be. "I won't be of much help to you anyway. Make no mistake Duo, we're all in the doghouse until we pull this off."

He nodded. He flung the car door open and met the guard with a toothy grin. "What's up man? Wow, I bet you haven't skipped leg-day since you were six years old," he joked, appraising the man's thick, trunk-like thighs and the entirety of his muscled build.

"Follow me," the man grunted and headed back towards the front door.

Duo shot one more look over his shoulder, at his partner in crime, before following Mister Big to the mansion.

The interior was much nicer than the outside suggested, and very well-maintained. Straight ahead of the front door was a grand staircase, lined with burgundy red carpet, that split in opposite directions halfway up. Gold and crystal chandeliers hung down from the high ceiling. Details of gold leaf decorated the walls. Dark mahogany doors with stained glass windows led to other parts of the house beyond the foyer.

Duo had been there before, to fix whatever situation J.J. got himself in and beg for Tsubarov's mercy. He had been much more in awe of the surroundings the last time he was there. Yuy's estate wasn't as ostentatious and obnoxiously showy, but still far grander and more impressive. When he was at the Russian lord's house last time, he truly believed Tsubarov was the most powerful man in town, but he didn't believe that anymore. That's why he hated it all the more that, in service of the second most powerful, he was tasked to bring down the most powerful.

"This way," the guard said and motioned for Duo to keep on his tail as he headed through the stained glass doors on the right.

"Yessir," Duo quipped and hastened his step to keep pace with him.

Tsubarov was in his 'throne room'; the grand room was literally empty, save for a red velvet and gold filigree chair. The space itself looked like what Duo imagined the Versailles Palace in France to look like: tall ceilings with painted scenes and a hardwood floor of intricate inlays; the walls were clad with a muted yellow wallpaper, and three windows on the right side of the room were covered by thick curtains. The light from the overhead chandeliers was dim, setting the mood somewhere between romance and horror. The exaggeration of the scene drew an inappropriate grin to Duo's lips. It was a little comical how over-the-top it was, like they were on a movie-set and this was how some Hollywood director visualized the home of a ruthless crime lord.

He stopped in the designated spot a few feet in front of the 'throne' and saluted the older man as a soldier would salute his superior, but with a lot more sass.

Tsubarov acknowledged his presence with nothing but a nod and then just stared at him.

Duo's bravery quickly faded as he began to feel uncomfortable under the cold stare. He kept waiting for the man to speak up, to reveal why he had been summoned, but he remained quiet and only observed him. He got the impression it was a variation on the blink-and-you-lose game: the first to speak, the first to no longer be able to suffer the eerie silence, was the loser. Duo knew it was a game he stood no chance of winning at, so he spared himself the prolonged misery and threw in the towel. "What can I do for you, milord?"

A dark grin tugged at the corner of the man's mouth. He shared a single look with the guard that had led Duo inside and the big man left them alone in the room. "It's been a while," he remarked with his usual, calm tone. "You look good."

"Thanks, you're looking pretty dapper yourself."

"If I didn't know any better I'd say a life in the lap of luxury agrees with you."

Duo clenched his jaw; subtle as it was, he knew it was a jab at his role as a prostitute. Tsubarov thought he was genuinely Yuy's whore. But he knew he shouldn't show the man that the remark got under his skin, so he shot back: "Some people just really know how to make a guy feel like a lady."

Tsubarov laughed. "Duo please, don't pretend to be comfortable with any of this."

He chewed on the inside of his cheek and wisely kept his mouth shut.

"How's your bother doing? He's looking good also."

Duo narrowed his eyes. "When did you have a meet with J.J.?"

"I didn't. I have no interest, whatsoever, in talking with that dullard. I have you now to handle him for me. You don't seriously think that The Bear is the only one I have tasked with keeping an eye on the two of you?"

Duo felt a cold sweat break out at the realization that more of Tsubarov's creeps had been tailing them.

"You're displeased," Tsubarov observed.

"I'm fucking annoyed, that's what I am," he shot back. "We've given you no reason to distrust us."

Tsubarov laughed again. "Duo, I'm as successful as I am exactly because I trust no one. And you are as successful as you are because you have been able to abuse the trust anyone has ever put in you. I'd be remiss if you, of all people, would be the one I would trust. Reason or no reason."

"Why did you have Neil bring me here?" Duo demanded, losing his patience with playing games. "Just to tell me this? Keep me on my toes? Because it's a waste of my time. I have a job to do."

"I don't care in the least about wasting your time-"

"Well, you should," Duo boldly interrupted him, "because this is time better spent making you a lot of money."

Tsubarov leaned forward in his seat and growled: "Interrupt me again and I'll waste some more of your time, having my guard pull out your fingernails and make you eat them." He quieted his tone again and continued: "As I was saying: I don't care in the least about wasting your time. But I do care about wasting my time, so I'll get to the point. The Bear told me you are leaving for New York."

Duo flared his nostrils. So it was The Bear ratting on him that got him into trouble. "The Bear is an idiot - or a 'dullard' rather, like my brother. I'm not 'leaving for New York'. I'm going to New York for one weekend, for some charity event Yuy invited me to. I'm not running away, as your lackey implied."

"He told me you specifically said he and Neil can't chaperone you; that you were going alone."

"There's no point in them coming to New York. Yuy is arranging the whole thing, so I don't know what flight we're taking - in fact, he probably has a private jet or something - and I don't know which hotel we're staying at."

"You couldn't have simply asked him that? Isn't that your job, getting information from him?"

Duo rolled his eyes. "My job is getting the right information from him, pertinent to our mission. Drilling him about stuff that doesn't matter isn't going to benefit our relationship. If he's not going to volunteer any information, I'm not going to ask. He didn't even tell me the charity event was in New York, or even what kind of charity it was. Google told me." He had googled it on the new laptop Heero had given him - handy little thing.

"Fine, I will allow it. But I will remind you that J.J. will be right here, with one of my men following him every step of the way. So don't try to trick me, trickster."

"I'll be on my best behavior. We will both be," he deadpanned. "Is that all?"

Tsubarov waved his hand dismissively. "Yes, that is all."

Duo pivoted on his heels and strutted out of the room, feigning confidence when he couldn't deny the weak feeling in his knees and the shaking of his hands.

Neil was still parked out front, waiting for him, but Duo walked right by him, having no intention of getting in the car with the guy who had thrown him into that emotional ambush without giving him any kind of a heads-up, no matter how subtle.

Neil backed the car up and pulled up beside him. He rolled down the window and called to him: "Get in the damn car, Duo!"

"I know how to get home from here."

"Don't be such a fucking fag and get in the car!"

Duo stopped dead in his tracks and kicked the side of the car. He hated it whenever someone used his sexuality to insult him. "You fucking brought me to the lion's den on a silver platter, you asshole!"

"He's my boss, Duo. I do what he tells me to do. It's safer that way; you'd be wise to remember that."

The American only glared at him.

"Seriously. If you play by his rules and do as you're told, everything will be fine. It's how I got to be where I am now. If you would just get in line, you could get places too."

"I'm not going to fall in line behind a guy like him."

Neil scoffed. "Oh yeah, that's right. Mister Conman with his lofty morals," Neil remarked sarcastically. "What do morals get you in this world, Duo? Tell me. Because it looks to me like all morals get you is a shitty apartment and a whole lot of trouble."

"I get to still be me!" He argued and pointed at his chest, at where his heart thundered. "Did he tell you he has a tail on me and J.J.? Did he?" Duo didn't need him to answer that - he could tell from the look in his eyes. "Thanks for the warning."

"I was instructed not to tell you. I don't have your 'morals', Duo. I have a nice penthouse and a shot at being a somebody in this town because I play by his rules."

Duo shook his head and started walking again. "When this is all over, I'm getting the fuck out of this shithole."

Neil kept following him in the car. "Yeah? Where to? Do you think things work any differently someplace else? There is always going to be a guy making up the rules, Duo... Why don't you see that I'm trying to help you? You really should listen to my advice; you might actually stand a chance at having a life."

"Leave me alone!"

The Russian growled. "Get in the car!"

"No! I'll see you when I get back from New York."

Neil kept pace with him for half a block before he finally gave up and sped off. Duo knew he would get a stern, dad-like scolding from him later on. It was a fifteen-minute walk to the nearest subway station and the closest stop to his apartment was another ten-minute walk to his front door. But he preferred to be alone with his thoughts.

He looked around himself, wondering if his stalker was anywhere near, but he couldn't pinpoint anyone. Everyone looked like a potential enemy to him. Everyone always did. There was no escaping that feeling of distrust and loneliness; it was the path he had chosen for himself a very long time ago. He had been walking down the path for so long that he passed all the exits, and was so far into no-man's-land that there was no turning back. Life would be easier if he could just follow the rules, but he had always taken issue with authority and he certainly wasn't going to accept Tsubarov's authority over him.

Even though he had no idea what to expect of his upcoming weekend in New York with the private businessman, he was looking forward to it, if only as an escape from reality. He had no doubt the experience would be surreal to him, almost alien: a new world with a different breed of man. At least he would be far away from the place where his roots dragged him into the dirt and closer to not being able to breathe.

Duo stayed cooped up in his apartment as much as he could. He caught himself oftentimes standing by the window overlooking the street - partially hidden behind the curtains he had tacked onto the rotting wooden frame of the window - trying to see if he could spot his tail. But he couldn't identify any familiar faces, or recurring figures; no obvious henchman standing at the corner of the street, looking up at his window from underneath a black hood.

It was never a secret to him that this job would get him in with Tsubarov way over his head, but being confronted with how short of a leash he was on was grating nonetheless.

As the weekend drew nearer he packed a duffel bag of clothes and put the suit Heero had given him in the suit bag it had come in to keep it as neat as possible. While selecting his more representable pairs of underwear, his hands suddenly went clammy. Would they be sharing a room? Would they be sharing a bed? He shook his head. Heero was definitely interested in him, but not in a sexual way; none of his behavior had indicated as much and even though Duo was not a mind-reader, he had to trust that he could read Heero well enough to know he wouldn't have to act on his cover as a male prostitute.

After some back and forth he decided to hide a pack of cigarettes in a side compartment of the bag, just in case he got an opportunity to sneak away and have a smoke. He had a feeling he would need it, to calm his nerves.

When it was late Friday afternoon, he was ready, mentally prepared as well. He knew seeing his target in a new environment would be informative and it was the perfect opportunity for them to get closer, with Heero being free from his strict routine. Heero's daily routine didn't leave him much 'room' to allow anyone into his life; a weekend away was like having the door ajar, and Duo was going to jam his foot in there and make sure that door would never close on him.

He called J.J., to warn him to keep out of trouble while he was out of town. He grumbled when the call went to voicemail - he knew his brother was too scatterbrained to listen to voicemail messages, but he tried anyway. "Hey, numbnuts," he said after the tone. "My ride will be here any minute. Keep your head out of your ass while I'm away-..." He paused. Should I tell him about the tail Tsubarov has on him too? He decided against it and continued lightheartedly: "I don't know if I'll be back on Sunday or Monday - Yuy didn't exactly print me an itinerary - but I'll bring you a souvenir. A stale slice of pizza, or something." He jumped at the sound of the doorbell and crossed the room to buzz Calvin into the building. "Gotta go, J.J. Be a good boy."

The conman walked to the front door and opened it for Calvin, who should be up on his floor any second, and then walked back to his bed for his leather jacket and luggage. As he slipped into the jacket, he heard footfalls approaching and he faced the door ready to make a joke about Calvin needing to carry his stuff for him, but the dry attempt at humor caught in his throat when Heero appeared in the doorway, followed closely by Calvin.

"Shit," Duo blurted and then his eyes widened. His gaze darted through the room, from the pile of laundry in the corner; to the wall-facing, expensive photograph; to the dirty dishes on the counter; to the copy of Forbes magazine - with Heero on the cover! - right in plain view on the dining table. He noticed the magazine about at the same time as Heero did as the man took in his surroundings. He didn't react to it, but he definitely spotted it, leaving Duo to fret over what he was thinking. "... Hi," the American eventually croaked and recovered himself with a trademark, sloppy grin. "I wasn't expecting you to come pick me up personally."

"It made more sense to head straight for the airport from here, rather than have Calvin drive back to the Tower."

"Well yeah, but still, I thought you'd... wait in the car..." Like you always do!

"Hn."

Hn?!

"Are you ready to go?"

"Uh... Yup. Yeah." He hoisted his duffel bag over his shoulder.

"You don't need that."

Duo quirked an eyebrow at the odd statement. "Excuse me, what?"

"You don't need to bring anything. Everything has been taken care of."

He frowned. "Well... like... I know the hotel is gonna have shampoo and shit, but I still need to wear clothes, right?" Right?

"We will buy you new clothes."

Duo put one hand on his hip. "We?"

"I," Heero corrected. "I will buy you new clothes."

"I didn't know this would be a charity event for me," he countered. "I told you I don't want all these gifts."

"Actually, what you said last on the subject was: 'If you really insist on giving me presents, you should give them to me yourself, not have them sent to me'. I am abiding by your instructions for gift-giving."

Duo could argue with him, but he didn't want to, too amused to be irked by the billionaire's insistence. He put the bag back down on the bed. "You have a mighty fine memory. What are ya, some kind o' genius?" He drawled.

"So I've been told..." Heero glanced down at his watch. "Let's go," he said and started for the door.

"Wait, can I at least bring my camera?" Duo asked. He knew Heero would like it, but mostly he really did just want to bring his camera; it was the perfect excuse to observe and document anything that he thought could be useful and besides, he liked playing around with it.

"Of course."

With Heero's consent he fished the camera out of the bag and hung it around his neck with the thick strap. "Now I'm a proper tourist." He spotted a small smile on Heero's lips.

The three of them left the apartment and Duo locked the door behind him.

Calvin opened the car door for Heero, while Duo got in by himself; once the driver was behind the wheel, the car pulled away smoothly. Duo felt a strange sense of relief at leaving. The town car navigated the narrow streets between the rundown buildings until they finally reached the highway; it was only a short way to the airport from there.

"Master Yuy," Calvin started, "I just received a text message from the co-pilot. Everything is on schedule and they are ready to leave at your arrival."

Heero simply nodded.

"So, I'm assuming you have your own jet, right?" Duo prodded.

The other looked at him sideways and tightened his mouth to prevent a smirk from showing.

Curiously Duo leaned forward and asked the driver: "Right?"

"Something like that."

Although not fully satisfied with the answer, Duo decided not to press further and sat back in his seat.

Through a private security gate, the car was allowed entry into the airport and drove right onto the tarmac. They drove past a flock of smaller, streamlined jets and above the low shape of the airport terminal, Duo could see planes taking off and coming in for landing against the backdrop of a pink and orange sky. The car stopped and Calvin got out to hold the door open for his master. After sharing a look with Heero, Duo opened the door on his side and stepped out of the car. Strong winds tousled his bangs and grabbed hold of his braid, pulling it up and slamming it against his back repeatedly. The thundering sound of jet engines coming from every which way and echoing over the vast expanse of the tarmac was a little disorienting.

The black car had stopped right in front of a white and navy blue airplane that dwarfed Duo, the car and everything else. Painted on the Towering tale of the monster was an elegantly shaped, silver Y. Waiting by the bottom of the staircase leading up to the side door of the plane were both pilots, a butler and two maids. Calvin walked ahead and handed the butler Heero's laptop case - apparently the billionaire traveled light, because that was all he brought with him.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Duo exclaimed. "You have your own 747?"

Heero shrugged. "Millionaires have jets; Billionaires have Boeings... At least, that's what the Boeing-representative told me when they heard I was shopping for a private plane."

Duo let out a laugh at the reasoning and followed Heero to the stairs, where the captain and co-pilot greeted their employer with a polite handshake and informed him they were ready for departure. The pilots and the butler led the way up the stairs, the two maids followed them up in silence. The two black SUVs of the security crew that followed Heero around pulled up as well and six of the guards joined them on the aircraft.

The last - and only - time Duo was on a plane was when they went down to Miami to meet Mister Fox. That plane looked very different with its drab, grey color scheme and cramped seats. The space of Heero's private airplane had been completely remodeled to suit the billionaire's taste and needs. The front section of the plane mostly resembled what Duo expected a private jet to be like: cream-colored carpet with a faint pattern in it; six big, leather, swivel seats in a semi-circle - with belts for take-offs and landings - facing a modern coffee table of rich wood. A vaulted ceiling hid the tubular shape of the aircraft. Behind the fully stocked bar was a glossy wall with blended watercolors - like an enormous piece of art; it separated the front of the airplane with the rest of the available space; an open corridor on one side leading all the way to the back.

The butler, having been informed that it was Duo's first time on board, explained in just enough detail: "Reception area, this is where we request you to remain seated during take-offs and landings. Through the corridor, you'll find the private areas. First door: Master Yuy's office. Second door: dining room, adjoined living room and theater. And the door at the end of the corridor is the door to the master bedroom."

He pointed to a winding staircase leading up to the characteristic 'hump' of the plane, just as the maids and the guards headed up there. "The kitchen and staff area is upstairs. For dinner, the chef a lovely Sambuca poached figs with ricotta; roasted beef tenderloin in veal stock and whiskey sauce, served with Yorkshire pudding-..."

"I'm sorry," Duo quickly interjected at the unusual combination, "pudding?"

Recognizing the misinterpretation, Heero informed, "It's a savory pastry."

"Oh..." Duo was overwhelmed by it all. An actual, private kitchen on a plane?

The butler continued: "And - as we were informed you like sweet desserts - a pastry chef is also aboard for your trip. He came highly recommended."

"Uh huh..." Duo felt dizzy, but nevertheless managed a polite smile and gratitude to the butler for the information, overloaded as it were.

Heero and Duo were politely directed to take a seat as they had been cleared for takeoff. The American sat down in a chair of his choice and dug the seatbelts out from between the plush cushions. Sunken into the armrest were cup holders lined with mahogany. The interior reminded Duo of an expensive yacht, rather than a plane. Heero probably had a yacht too...

The aircraft smoothly rolled forward and taxied to the runway.

Without instructions the butler handed Heero a stemless glass of champagne so it could securely be placed in the cup holder as the plane would tilt during takeoff. "Would you like a glass of champagne as well, sir?" The butler asked his new guest.

"No thanks. Tastes like cat piss to me." Duo made a face.

The butler smiled professionally. "Something else?"

He shook his head and watched the butler head upstairs. He then turned his head sideways to look at Heero as he made quick work of his drink. He smiled sympathetically. "Are you afraid of flying?"

"Only the takeoff." Heero scrunched up his nose and then argued: "I wouldn't call it 'afraid'."

Duo snickered. "Of course you wouldn't."

"Have you flown before?"

"Once... well, technically twice, of course; I came back." He flashed a grin. "But it was nothing like this."

"I imagine it wasn't."

"When was the last time you flew coach?"

"I never have," Heero replied matter-of-factly. "I wasn't always this wealthy, but when I wasn't, there was no need to fly around. By the time I started conducting business overseas, I could afford first class seating."

"When did you buy this Boeing?"

"When I relocated the headquarters from New York. Logistically, it makes more sense for the headquarters to be in New York; a lot of Y-Enterprises' business partners are situated in New York, so I knew that I would have to fly back and forth a lot."

"If it made more sense to keep the HQ in New York, why did you decide to move?"

"It's part of our stateside economy boost program: to relocate the headquarters to a different city every five years. The build of a new tower is an enormous financial opportunity for local construction businesses, and once completed, it creates a lot of new jobs in maintenance, administration, IT and design. The explosive growth of the company allows us to be able to afford more and more people on the payroll, and we need new buildings and new people anyway. We've also found that the Tower attracts a lot of new businesses as well; multinational companies pretty much follow us wherever we go. It's a statewide business boost."

Duo blinked, quietly amazed by the reasoning. It was true that after the arrival of the Y-Tower, the business district had blossomed and Corbeau Park had been revived as well. Duo never consciously considered the impact that the arrival of the Y-Tower had on the city. In hindsight, the economic state of the city was better than it was before, but unfortunately the benefits of the new tower didn't trickle down to everyone.

The plane sped up, and Heero gripped the armrests and closed his eyes. Some glasswork in the bar behind them rattled as the plane angled upward, but the back wheels were still on the tarmac. Suddenly, the large craft was lifted in the air and everything went quiet with the exception of the constant drone of the four jet engines that propelled them. They tilted back further and swiftly climbed higher and higher; Duo felt the slight change in air pressure in his ears. He looked sideways at Heero, who almost seemed to be in a trance. Obviously he had learned how to deal with his fear of the takeoffs - he had flown often enough. Duo gave him as long as he needed and mulled over Heero's words some more.

A new city every five years, he thought to himself. At the start of their mission, when Neil 'recruited' Duo and J.J. - or rather, got stuck with them - he had mentioned that Yuy moved to the city five years ago, shortly before the Y-Tower was completed. That meant Heero was moving away again soon. Although Duo shouldn't care about that, it relieved him. He knew it would be good for the man to be able to move away after all was said and done; after Duo betrayed his trust and robbed him in the most intimate way possible...

He looked over at the businessman again; Heero had his eyes open and was staring up ahead. "So where are you going?"

Heero frowned at his question. "We're both going to New York."

Duo smiled as he realized his mistake, and was endeared by Heero's confusion and dry answer. "No, I mean: which city are you moving to next? It's been five years, right?"

The other nodded. "Almost, yes."

Duo waited and then asked again: "Where are you going?"

"Philadelphia. The permits for the Tower came through last August and we started construction in February. It should be done in time for a pre-Christmas switch next year."

"Oh. Okay." Duo noted Heero's flat, uninspired tone. "And did you find your next crazy big mansion?"

"As always, I'll have the penthouse at the top of the Tower."

"You're not looking for any new home real estate?"

"Not right now."

It was clear to Duo that Yuy didn't want to talk about it.

After little over half an hour into the flight, the maids prepared the table in the dining room and they were invited to take a seat for dinner. The four-course meal they were served looked amazing and felt even better... but a brick lay heavy in the pit of Duo's stomach and prevented him from enjoying the food. He took a few, small bites and pushed the food around his plate with his fork. Heero looked up a couple of times, but never commented.

What if he doesn't want to move this time because he wants to stay close to me? Duo wondered. The idea made him feel horrible, so naturally he wanted to reject the explanation as a possibility... but he acknowledged that it was the first possibility that popped into his head. In his line of work, he had to go by those assumptions; he just didn't want to believe it.

If Heero was already feeling that much closer to him, it could only get worse for the businessman. There was no getting out of this guilt-free, Duo knew. It wrecked him. There was a kindness in Heero that nobody was aware of, maybe not even Heero himself. Duo didn't want to rob him of that - he was only after his money, but he couldn't take one without the other.

It's already happening, he thought to himself. The closeness between him and his mark that made his job more difficult; the closeness he had to avoid, or it would ruin his abilities to read his target. But as much as he tried, he couldn't think of Heero as cold and inhuman anymore; he wasn't the man on the Forbes cover, regardless of how much effort Duo put into pretending him to be - that was the danger of his work. The more he got to know about his target, the more his target became a person. That meant his concerns and wishes were starting to blur his vision; he started to question his own instincts because he didn't want to accept the negatives.

"You're quiet," Heero observed coolly.

"Oh?" Duo feigned innocence. "Just tired I guess."

"You can take a nap, if you need. We won't land in New York for at least another hour."

"Eh, no thanks." He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly and offered a grin. "If I go to sleep now, I'll be a fucking zombie later tonight."

Heero nodded. "Suit yourself, but I do have to make a few calls before we land." After excusing himself, he promptly got up from the table and left for the office on board.

For the remainder of the flight, Duo roamed around the different areas, and even poked his curious head into the bedroom in the back for a peek. A queen-sized bed was against the back wall; small picture frames with modern art hung in the space between each of the windows on either side. There was a dresser and a TV. Unable to contain himself, he stepped into the bedroom - Heero had given him permission to take a nap, so by extension, he was allotted access into the bedroom, right? - for a closer look. Most of the drawers of the dresser were empty, except for the top one with a set of pajamas, underwear and a fresh change of clothes at the ready. The drawers of both nightstands were empty - no personal belongings.

After his exploration, Duo circled back to the office where Heero was working. He stood in the open doorway for a moment, giving Heero a chance to deny him access if he needed privacy, but since the man paid him no attention, he boldly stepped inside and took a seat in one of the chairs across from him at the desk.

Heero's laptop was open and the screen glowed brightly. He had papers spread out in front of him as well, including more blue folders with a post-it on top and written in his assistant's handwriting: Sign and FedEx by Saturday 14:00.

Finding out Harold was abusing his boss's trust and stealing from him was a huge breakthrough for their mission, but Duo dreaded having to break the news to Heero. Not only would the conman ruin Heero's life by stealing from him, his relationship with his butler Gerry - who pushed Heero to contact the American again - would end up in shambles. Right or wrong, Heero had a good relationship with his assistant, even though that was an illusion. Revealing that his assistant had been underhandedly pocketing his money would really take away all of his trust in other people. Wasn't the lie much kinder?

The butler came in and informed them that they were landing soon, so they took their seats in the front of the plane again and buckled up. By the time they started the landing, it was dark outside; the city, however, was a circus of lights, and Duo enjoyed his seat close by the window so he could look out at the cluster of towers.

The wheels touched the ground with only a light shock, and the airplane gradually slowed down, then made a few turns towards a private terminal at the airport.

"Are we headed straight for the hotel?" Duo inquired to the businessman as they made their way through an empty hallway, flanked by the guards in a diamond formation.

"No, we have to make a stop first. You need clothes, right?"

Duo laughed. "Yeah, I do, thanks to you. But what time is it? Will the stores still be open by the time we get to the city?" Judging by the view as they landed, the airport was a little distance removed from downtown New York City, and if movies and TV series were any reliable indication, traffic would be a nuisance.

Heero glanced down at his watch. "Regular opening hours are over, but they are keeping Bergdorf and Goodman open for us."

"What?! They are keeping a store open for us? Why didn't you just let me bring my own clothes, if it was going to be a hassle like this?"

"It's not a hassle," he replied simply, "and this is New York."

Duo rolled his eyes. "Like that explains anything..."

They stopped in front of closed elevator doors and waited for the elevator to arrive. Duo, Heero and two guards stepped inside, the others stayed behind. The American frowned when he looked over and saw one of the guards push the button for the top floor, labelled 'HP'. "Uhm, shouldn't we go down, to get to the car?"

"We're not taking the car." Just as Heero said that, the doors opened and the black night sky appeared before them. Cool, crisp air rushed into the small space, pushed by a strong, constant wind. A rumbling noise deafened Duo's ears and he watched in amazement as the guards stepped aside and revealed the view of the rooftop and the black helicopter that idled on the Helipad - HP.

"Sweet mother Mary..." he mumbled under his breath as he followed Heero out onto the roof. The wind, produced by the powerful rotors that swung ominously above their heads, pulled at his open jacket and the length of his braid whipped behind him.

He climbed into the back of the chopper, next to Heero, and was handed a pair of headphones that cancelled out most of the noise and let him communicate with the pilot and his host. But he didn't have much to say - he was speechless, in fact.

The chopper lifted up into the air effortlessly, as light as a feather being pulled up by the wind. He plastered his face against the window and stared at the sights in awe as they approached the city.

"Harper, do a fly-by for our guest," Duo heard Heero say through the headphones.

The bemused pilot replied: "Yessir."

The helicopter took a detour around the city, along the Hudson River and past the Statue of Liberty.

"This is crazy!" Duo exclaimed excitedly; he couldn't help but laugh, truly feeling like he was worlds away from his troubles. Amidst the famous, tall buildings stood the Y-Tower, proud and taller than most. The design was different from the Tower he had gotten used to seeing. The footprint of the building was a standard square, but the length of the building curved, like a strung bow, and in the created hollow of its back, a single sliver of the building stuck out. Duo gave Heero a questioning look, to which he explained that the seemingly 'floating' part of the building was his office; it was decided to place half-way up the Tower, rather than all the way up.

The American flashed a grin. "I like ours better!"

"Hn?"

"I like our tower better!"

Heero frowned at him, but a softness still appeared in his eyes. "Take us to Solow, Harper."

"Yessir."

"I thought we were going to that store?" Duo questioned and held onto the panel of the door as the helicopter made a sharp turn.

"We are, but Bergdorf and Goodman doesn't have a helipad on the roof. The neighboring building, Solow, does. It's a building corporation; Y-Enterprises does a lot of business with them. We are free to use their helipad."

"Friends in high places, huh?"

Heero's mouth tightened. "I wouldn't call us 'friends'. Solow is a business associate."

"It wouldn't hurt you to make a friend once in a while," Duo shot back with a grin.

"I know. I'm trying."

Duo looked away as their eye contact became too intimate all of a sudden.

Harper landed the chopper on the roof of the Solow building and was instructed to wait for them there.

Using a keycard, they gained access to the building and took the elevator down. Only a single guard came with them in the helicopter, but a new team had been waiting for them at the rooftop. Duo was impressed as it struck him that Heero knew every single one of his 'servants' by name.

Apparently Bergdorf and Goodman wasn't just any store - it was an enormous luxury department store, and it was impressive to be there and have the entire store to themselves. A threesome of the sales staff gathered around them and gave a quick tour before getting to it. They took them to one of the many dressing areas where they had prepared three racks of clothing based on Yuy's instructions: a rack of formal wear, a rack of nightwear, and a rack of suits and tuxedos for Duo to choose from - all black.

Duo stared in disbelief. He wasn't used to being treated as royally as he was. It was a little uncomfortable, in fact, to have the sales people kiss his ass like that; usually, sales people chased him out of the store, knowing he was only there to shoplift or pickpocket other customers. It also kept surprising him how Heero paid attention to him. In spite of his apparent aversion to black clothes, he recognized and accepted that Duo preferred to wear black, and seemed perfectly content to accommodate his personal taste.

"If you don't like any of the clothes they picked for you, you are free to go around and look for things yourself, but since it's such a big store, it's quicker this way," Heero informed.

"Uh... I'm sure this will be fine. I just don't know where to start..."

Fifteen minutes later Duo was stepping into his fifth pair of designer jeans. He had stopped paying attention to the price tags because the prices gave him heart palpitations. While he was in the dressing stall, pairing the jeans with a black cashmere sweater that had been picked out for him, he listened to the sales manager sucking up to Heero and trying to encourage him to try out some clothes himself. Heero wasn't interested.

"I'm not here for myself," he kept saying.

Duo wasn't sure if he ought to be flattered - to be put first and to be Heero's focus - or to feel unnerved by the fact that he was basically the billionaire's life-size Ken doll to play dress-up with.

They left the store an hour later with two full bags of clothes; the suits would be tailored overnight and brought to the Y-Tower - where they would be staying, in Heero's penthouse - the next day, in time for one of them to be worn to the charity event.

The doorman let them into the Solow building and they headed back up to the rooftop. Once again seated inside helicopter, Harper fired up the engine and flew them the short distance to the Y-Tower. The single guard from before joined them on board, in the seat next to the pilot; Duo assumed that the rest of the standard entourage were waiting for them at the Tower.

The helicopter landed on the helipad on the roof, directly above the penthouse.

The décor of the penthouse was very modern and had a stark contrast of white stone and dark, rich woods. The interior was designed like a loft; the living room was in the center - where the elevator came up - and the ceilings were two stories high, providing a panoramic view of the city. On either side were two open mezzanines: the master bedroom on one end, and on the other end a private office. Underneath the bedroom was the large kitchen - which was barely used, Heero mentioned in passing - and underneath the office was a second seating area and the library. Wrapped all around was a balcony.

As impressive as the penthouse was, Duo only had focus for one aspect: "There is only one bedroom?"

"In the penthouse, yes. I never have any guests over, so the space wasn't designed to accommodate that."

Before Duo could break out in a nervous sweat, Heero added: "There is another apartment one floor down, where the guards and staff sleep. There is an extra bedroom available for you there."

Sleeping in the staff quarters. It should have been nothing but a relief, but at the same time it felt a little insulting.

"Would you like a drink, or something to eat? I could call up the butler, and the chef is on-call tonight as well."

"No!" Duo replied hastily, not comfortable with being such a burden to them. "It's late, let them be."

"They are financially compensated for being available tonight," he said dryly.

"It doesn't matter. Please, don't call anyone. I can fix a drink for myself, okay?" He nodded at the bar by the kitchen and promptly walked up to it.

Heero followed him and although it was his own home - one of many - he looked a little lost as he observed Duo.

Unscrupulously, Duo checked the cabinets and found glasses, a gilded bottle of Scotch, and figured out how to work the ice dispenser in the fridge. "Scotch on the rocks good for you?"

The other blinked. "It's not my usual drink..."

Duo smiled at the man's very near pout. "It'll be fine." He put ice in the glasses and poured the golden-toned liquid on top, then handed one to Heero. The man accepted the glass, but didn't take a drink; Duo took the initiative and sipped from his glass. He then started to meander through the spacious penthouse apartment, running his fingers along the back of the big, white couch in the sunken seating area at the center. He felt the soft, smooth leather, then stopped to study the various pieces of art on the wall and the single, grand sculptural piece by the window - a twisted shape of black, raw stone - a strange silhouette against the backdrop of the city. It was the view that stopped him dead in his tracks. Right in front of him was the crown of the Chrysler building, and around it sparkled the rest of the city.

"Jesus Christ," he uttered. "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

"Still like 'our tower' better?" Heero asked as he walked up to stand beside him, a little closer than he normally would.

Duo sighed. As far as the view was concerned, the Tower back home had the disadvantage of looking out over the hellish landscape that was Duo's life; he could hide in the tall Tower and consider himself above it all - out of the reach of his own misery - but he was still in the midst of it, with no escape. Standing there, appreciating a view he had only ever seen in movies and on billboards, he felt free. The thought that it was nothing but a scam - an illusion that would soon fade - was only distant and dull.

He couldn't answer Heero's question. Instead, he posed a question in return. "Do you like being back here?"

Heero shrugged and finally took a sip of his drink, only to stall for time.

"Don't you miss it?"

"I don't miss anything," he admitted quietly. Duo watched the man's reflection in the glass pane closely and noted the way his shoulders were slumped and the corners of his mouth were downturned, like he was tired from bearing a heavy burden for too long. "None of these places have ever been my home."

"Then what is your home?"

"I don't know yet." Heero's gaze met Duo's in the reflection, honest and open. Duo stared back for as long as he could stand it, but in the end he looked away, ashamed.

To change the subject, the conman inquired: "What do you want me to tell people tomorrow, at the event?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm assuming you don't want people to know what I am." He took a big drink. "How do you want me to introduce myself?"

"You can introduce yourself however you like. Whatever you feel most comfortable with."

Duo blinked and stared at him in shock. "You wouldn't care if I told them I'm a prostitute and you pay me to keep you company?" He challenged in disbelief.

"I don't care," Heero stated. "No one there would have the right to judge you. Everyone in my life keeps my company because I pay them, one way or another. They are no better than you."

The American's mouth went dry. He decided to make light of the situation and joked: "So if I wanted, I could also tell them I'm a Russian Tsar named... Nikolai Praskovya? And talk with a thick accent all evening?"

Heero pursed his lips to hide a smile. "If that's what you want."

Duo chuckled. "Hm. I guess I'll just be myself. But not that part of myself."

The businessman nodded.

"Have you ever taken someone else like me to an event like this?"

"One, yes."

Duo's heart thundered, knowing Heero was referring to Mister Fox and recognizing how significant it was that Heero mentioned the man to him. "What did he introduce himself as?"

Heero looked at him with vulnerable eyes. "As my friend."

The conman offered a smile in return. "I'd like to introduce myself as your friend too."

Heero steeled his gaze, not willing to show any more emotion. "Like I said, you can say whatever you are comfortable with." He pivoted on his heels and was about to walk away, but Duo grabbed his arm and stopped him.

Without needing Heero to look back at him, he assured the man: "I'm comfortable with that." He felt the tension in his arm. Once Heero nodded curtly, acknowledging his statement, Duo let him go and watched him walk across the room, needing to create some distance between them.

"I'll ask one of the guards to come back up and escort you to your room."

Duo only nodded in response and finished his drink. Mere minutes later one of the tall, broad-shouldered guards appeared and took him down one floor to the 'Staff Floor'. It resembled a hotel floor: a narrow, T-shaped corridor provided access to about a dozen private rooms. He was even handed a key card that opened the door to his room.

"This is yours," said the guard, holding the door open for him.

"Thank you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, sir." The guard stepped back into the hallway and the door fell shut automatically.

The room was sober in comparison to upstairs, but a luxury to what Duo was used to. An adequate-sized bedroom with a double bed of fresh, white linen, a small dresser and a clean en suite bathroom. Big windows provided a similar view of the Chrysler building. There was a phone on the nightstand, with only a handful of buttons and a tiny lightbulb by each of them. The acronyms on the buttons made very little sense to him, except 'PH'; he assumed 'PG' was the parking garage and 'HYO' was Heero's office, halfway down the building. Rather than being able to dial a number, the phone was connected to every relevant point in the building, to call and to receive calls.

On a whim, he picked up the receiver and pressed the 'PH' button. It rang six times; every time he contemplated hanging up, but decided there was no point in back paddling. When the call was answered the light by the button lit up.

"..." Nothing was said as the person waited for the caller to speak.

"Heero?" The name rolled off his tongue so easily.

"Duo," the deep voice responded. "Why are you calling?"

"I didn't wish you a goodnight." He fidgeted as his only response was silence and it stretched for an uncomfortable length of time. "So... Goodnight."

"... Goodnight, Duo." The voice was soft.

Following a brief pause the line was disconnected.

With a sigh, he put the phone back and remained seated on the edge of the bed for a moment as he recapped the whirlwind of his day. He let himself fall backwards onto the mattress; after he toed off his boots, he scooted up the bed and curled up on top of the sheets. The shopping bags were in the corner of the room, previously placed there by the guard who carried the bags out of the store for him, no doubt. But he was too tired to get up and change into his expensive, silk pajamas.

For the first time in a very long time, his mind went quiet. All he heard was the wind forcing its way around the building, and the muffled sound of sirens far, far below, reminding him that he wasn't home; that felt very relaxing. Cocooned in the small bedroom, ninety stories above the streets of New York - like a nest high up in the trees - he felt safe.


Chapter 15

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